


The lowest point

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Depression, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Self-Harm, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:36:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25389169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The reader's mental health is poor and she is barely coping. After she's reckless on a hunt, Sam and Dean are forced to confront her problems and her future becomes a little more hopeful.
Kudos: 17





	The lowest point

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning: self-harm and suicidal behaviour. If these are triggers for you, please don't read. Your safety is the most important thing.

"Alright, what the hell were you doing on this hunt?" Dean growled, as soon as you, him and Sam had made it through the door and into the warm dry bunker.

"Dean," Sam hissed, trying to calm his brother and diffuse the situation.

"No Sammy. She could o' gotten hurt. Hell, she could have gotten herself killed. And you want me to be silent about this?"

"I didn't say we wouldn't talk about it," Sam said evenly. "We will. But look Dean, she's upset, she's distressed. Going at her like this isn't going to help."

"It'll help if it knocks some sense into her." Dean reasoned darkly.

And that's when you made a sound that was half laughter, half crying. As if you didn't know what you were doing. As if you hadn't wanted that ghost to knock you so far into tomorrow that you couldn't return. Sam could see it. Dean couldn't. You suspected that he had refused to entertain the notion, too frightened of what it might mean.

Both brothers turned towards you. Sam pulled you into his chest and just held you there for a long time as you sobbed. Dean was pacing, muttering about danger and stupid decisions and how he was going to bench you. To be completely honest, you were only surprised Sam hadn't benched you already. He'd tried to talk to you about your mental health when he noticed you becoming withdrawn and getting more and more reckless on hunts (Dean hadn't noticed these changes in the same way, usually so observant, he could refuse to see something right in front of him if it made him feel scared and helpless enough). You hadn't let Sam (or Dean for that matter) in. And then the reason Sam hadn't benched you became suddenly clear. You were at your liveliest when working and Sam found that less frightening than your total listlessness at all other times. 

Eventually, after you had cried yourself out, Sam sat you down on the sofa and asked you to stay there while he talked to Dean. You nodded without much interest and watched as they walked out of your earshot. Not five minutes later they returned, Dean looking a mixture of contrite and determined. Sam's expression was kind, just like it usually was when you were involved.

"So, Y/N," Dean said carefully, "I'm sorry I was so hard on you about the hunt. I've been missing signs, signs I shouldn't have missed. If anything happened to you out there -" his voice broke.

"We can't lose you Y/N," Sam continued for his brother. "We just can't. I thought maybe if I gave you space, things would get better. I was wrong and I'm sorry for not doing what I should have done."

"S'not your fault," you told him. "Please don't feel guilty. You didn't make me like this."

"We didn't help as we should have done. We will help you now though," Sam said reassuringly. "No more hiding away, okay?"

"He's right, Y/N," Dean said, "You don't have to deal with this by yourself."

You nodded slowly. Perhaps they could help. And you didn't see any other options.

"I'm just going to ask you a few questions now, is that okay Y/N?" Sam asked gently. It was the tone he used when he needed urgent information from the people the three of you encountered during hunts. You knew you would not be able to refuse him when his eyes carried so much pain.

"Okay," you said.

"And you answer truthfully, y'hear me?" Dean added forcefully, before falling back into silence when Sam gave him a reproachful look.

"I'll try," you said. Sam smiled, a little relieved.

"I think you have depression, right Y/N?" came the first question. "Have you ever been diagnosed?"

"No." Short and sweet, not that anyone was expecting more from you at the time.

"We'll need to look into getting you professional help then, right Dean?" Sam said.

"Right." Dean replied.

"Have you harmed yourself in any way, excluding from being reckless on hunts?"

"Answer the question, Y/N," Dean said when you had stared at the floor in silence for several minutes.

"Yes," you finally said. 

"Where?" Dean asked. When you refused to answer he grabbed your left wrist and began to pull your sleeve up. You struggled and asked him to let you go but he did not. For a moment it looked like Sam was about to say something, most likely to protest Dean's way of dealing with the answer your silence had given them, but Dean shook his head and he decided it was wiser not to. By the time Dean was done, your entire lower arm was on show. The scars littering it were clearly not the product of anything supernatural.

"Your safety comes first," Dean seemed to be settling something with himself. "We can either take you to the nearest hospital, now, or you can agree to being under our observation until we're certain you're safe."

"I don't want to stay in the hospital," you said, "I know I need help, but I want to stay with you guys. And I want to keep hunting."

Dean scoffed when you mentioned hunting. Sam gave him a stern look then turned back to you.

"I don't think hunting is wise for you at the moment Y/N. But yes, you can stay. We're going to take all your weapons away and any pills you need will be given to you by Dean or me. Same with your razors. And one of us will move into your room to keep an eye on you. No more hiding away from us."

"I'm really sorry for everything," you said. How had it come to this? To them needed to suspend their life-saving work, to you needing someone else to make decisions you knew you should have made yourself. 

"Hey," he replied. "It's not a problem, ever. The important thing is that you're safe. You'll get better, I promise. If you like you can still help on research and if me and Dean really need to go somewhere, we'll call Cas to keep an eye on you. We're here and we've got you."

"I know you do," you said, smiling faintly.

It would be a long road, but you would get better. A turning point had come that day, and you knew the brothers would be by your side to face whatever happened.

**Author's Note:**

> If this highlights any issues and you're struggling with them, please do get help. Your mental health and safety are so important x


End file.
